Miles To Go Before She Sleeps
by Fayre Aiden
Summary: Sara takes a vacation, and Grissom and Catherine have to investigate the aftermath. GSR, hints of WC.
1. The Request

**Miles to Go Before She Sleeps**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own CSI, its characters, or anything else associated with the show other than the DVDs… although if I did, Sara and Grissom would've gotten together a long time ago, Ecklie would've been killed, and Warrick would be mine. :-D

**Spoilers:** Come on, does it really matter? We've seen all the episodes by now, haven't we? 

**Summary:** GSR, cause that's how it should be. Sara takes a break, and Grissom and Catherine have to investigate the aftermath.

**A/N:** Yes, I know… This is another story about Sara getting hurt, but you know as well as I do that it takes a tragedy for Grissom to realize just how much he cares about something. The possibility of losing Sara always stirs him into action. I know it's predictable, but it's fun to explore possibilities.

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Chapter 1

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Another long night on shift done with, Grissom headed toward his office. All that was left to do was drop off some files, pick up his jacket and keys, and then go home to his townhouse for some sleep… He needed it after such a strange night. With so many cases, you'd think all of Vegas had a death wish…

Going by the Chem. and DNA labs, he looked around to see the day shift techs preparing their stations for the hard work ahead. But he was stopped when he came upon a familiar sight: Sara was once again sitting in the computer lab with her eyes glued to the screen, coffee in hand, as she skimmed through one of the databases. Leaning against the doorframe and watching her for a moment, he sighed as he thought back to the many cases that had prompted her to do the same thing. Finally, he tried to get her attention.

"Sara, shift is over. Aren't you going home?"

Her head jerked up as if startled, but she plastered a smile on her face as she realized that he knew what she was doing. "Sure, I'm almost done. All I have to do is log off."

He sighed again and came closer. "That's what you said while you were on the Pamela Adler case, too."

She looked back down at the screen and kept scrolling. "Grissom, don't. This isn't like that."

"Isn't it, Sara?"

She looked up to meet his sad stare, but was shocked at the emotion behind his grey-blue eyes. She knew that he was worried about her, but she couldn't help it that she could identify with the victims. Tearing her gaze from his, she turned back to the screen and logged off the database.

"There, I'm done. Are you happy now?"

Getting up, she started to walk past him, but he grabbed her hand and stopped her. Holding it for a moment, he tried to figure out exactly what was going through her head at that moment.

"Come on," he pleaded. "Let me get my keys and I'll walk you to your car."

"I don't need to be escorted," she said coldly, tearing her hand away. "I know my way out."

Realizing how much the case must be affecting her, he called out. "Sara…"

Hearing his voice, she stopped in her tracks. Though every bone in her body told her to walk away, she couldn't seem to make herself move from that spot. The touch of his skin against hers was warm and soft, everything she'd ever imagined it to be, and before she could pull herself to her senses, she found herself whispering,

"Okay."

Giving a small smile, Grissom turned and left the room, heading down the hall toward his office. As Sara followed, she cursed herself for her inability to resist his requests. Even after everything that had happened between them, she couldn't let him go… and she hated herself for it. Why couldn't she accept that he was never going to care for her in the way that she craved, in the way that she needed?

"Sara, did you hear me?"

"What?" She was pulled out of her thoughts as he called out to her from inside his office. Looking around and realizing that she was still standing out in the hall, she stepped inside and leaned against one of his standing shelves.

Grissom sighed and, setting his keys down on the desk, sat down on the corner. Looking at her, his brows furrowed as he searched for the words. "Sara, is there something going on that you need to talk about?"

"No, why?"

"You've been dragging lately, and once again tonight, I found you staring at that computer screen scanning over the names of victims…"

She shook her head vigorously. "I'm fine. It's just this last case… It took a lot of overtime, and it wore a lot of us out. I just need a few hours of sleep, and I'll be fresh and ready for tomorrow."

He stood and came toward her. "You can't keep doing this to yourself. If you keep this up, you're going to burn out."

"No, I won't, Grissom. I told you, I'm fine," she said emphatically, standing up straight and looking him dead in the eye. "All I need is a few hours sleep."

"What you _need _is a vacation. You work yourself to the bone… I bet you can't even remember the last vacation you took."

She glared at him. "That's not true. It was three years ago. I took a day off, and you called me in anyway and put me on the cannibalized cheerleader case."

"Sara, that was _not_ the point of this conversation. I'm giving you the next week off."

Her jaw dropped. She began to protest, but he interrupted.

"No excuses. One week, and I want you to rest. No reading forensic journals, no watching case file shows on TV, and absolutely NO listening to the scanner."

"Grissom, that's not fair! The solitude alone would kill me, and you know it! I'll take the day off tomorrow and come back on Friday," she began to barter.

He shook his head. "If it was just that you were tired, then I would say that'd be fine, but it's more than that, Sara... Five days."

She looked at him hard. "Two, and coming from me, that's generous."

"Three. That's my final offer, or it's back to a week."

For a moment, it would've seemed to any passers-by that a staring contest had ensued between the two of them as they locked eyes in silent battle. Sara fought his concerned stare, a battle of her own raging in her mind. She couldn't give in... That would mean that he was right, that she really did need the rest... that she was weak. But if she didn't, what would he think of her? She mentally shook herself. Did he know how much he affected her? Could he possibly realize the hold he had on her heart? As hard as she tried, she couldn't outrun his presence in her life, and it was at times like this that she both loved and hated him the most, when she knew he cared but he was afraid to show it.

Finally she gave in. "Alright," she said, extending her hand. "Three it is. But after that, I'm back on the job, no questions asked."

Grissom took her hand and shook. "No questions asked."

She tried to pull her hand back, but for a moment, his hand lingered as if he were trying to savor every touch, every moment with her. Feeling a little awkward, she turned to leave, but not before stopping in the doorway to say goodnight as she always did.

It took a few minutes for Grissom to fully comprehend what had just taken place. Sara Sidle had just agreed to take a vacation… It was a strange night indeed. Shaking his head, he grabbed his keys and jacket, and after locking his office, followed her out wondering what the next day would bring.

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**A/N:** _Please review! This is my first story that I haven't completely written before posting, other than Federal Involvement, and that was just because I had writer's block... This story is based off of an idea I had a long time ago that I ran across recently and decided to try my hand at. Besides, I need something to do now that Federal Involvement is finished... ;-) PLEASE REVIEW!_

**Teaser:** _**Grissom stared at the victim laying face down on the hard concrete, dark brown curls covering her face. There was something eerily familiar about the young woman, bearing a painful resemblance that he couldn't even think about without feeling his heart beat wildly out of control. ... As Catherine shone theflashlightover her pale and lifeless looking body, the light passed over the face and her eyes contracted. "God, Gil... She's alive!"**_


	2. The Scene

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Chapter 2: The Scene

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The next night proved to be even crazier than the last. When Grissom came into his office, a list of cases was already waiting for him, and after looking at the nature of the cases, he was almost sorry he'd made Sara take time off. But crime in Las Vegas waited for no one, so he headed to the conference room with coffee and assignments in hand. When the others had arrived and finally settled down, Grissom began the night with a few announcements.

"All right, we've got a big night ahead of us. There's a shit load of cases here, and Sara's taking some time off so we'll have to divide and conquer."

"Wait," said Nick with a smile. "Sara Sidle is taking time off? Are you sure you got the right information there, Griss?"

He gave a small smile. "Trust me, it wasn't easy… Okay, Nick, you have a 414 at the Four Aces."

"Oh man!" he cried. "Not another trick roll!"

"Hey, until Vegas learns that you can't trust every hooker on the street, we keep investigating trick rolls. Someone has to do it… Warrick, B & E in Summerlin. Greg, I'm putting you on the suspected rape case. The victim was found out near Blue Diamond Road. O'Riley is waiting for you."

"What about me?" Catherine asked as the others filed out.

"You're with me. We've got a 404 in Henderson."

She furrowed her brow. "Unknown trouble? What kind of unknown trouble?"

"A call came in about an hour ago with an anonymous tip reporting an unconscious woman in a warehouse. We don't know much more than that."

"So she's dead?"

He shrugged. "The paramedics couldn't revive her, but the assistant coroner hasn't pronounced."

"Hasn't he gotten there yet?"

"Oh, he's there, but he hasn't pronounced yet."

"Why not?" she asked incredulously.

"Doc. Robbins had a family emergency and David has a cold. They had to bring in swing shift's new assistant coroner, and apparently he doesn't know what he's doing quite yet."

"Great… Well, _that_ sounds like fun. Why didn't they just call it a 419?"

"Because no one in Vegas knows what they're doing. Come on, we should get over there."

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A half an hour later, their black Denali pulled up to an old warehouse on the outskirts of Henderson. Though it was late, the surrounding area was awash with light as the blue and red of nearby police units mixed to cast an eerie purple glow upon the scene. Several officers stood near the taped off area conversing with one another and two paramedics, but despite these familiar sights, Grissom couldn't shake the feeling that this was by no means familiar territory.

As they pulled their kits out of the back of the Denali and made their way toward the old warehouse, Brass was waiting for them.

"Hey Gil… Cath… Body's over there."

"The body?" Grissom repeated.

"Yeah. Seems the coroner finally made up his mind. She couldn't be revived, and he couldn't feel a pulse, so go figure…"

Shaking her head, Catherine walked ahead, turning on her flashlight as she approached the woman.

"Two stab wounds in the back, and a shot in the back of the leg," she called out as Grissom joined her. "Not much blood, and lividity hasn't set. She hasn't been here long."

Grissom stared at the victim laying face down on the hard concrete, dark brown curls covering her face. There was something eerily familiar about the young woman, bearing a painful resemblance that he couldn't even think about without feeling his heart beat wildly out of control.

Catherine looked up, sensing his uneasiness. "Grissom, what's wrong?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he knelt next to the body and proceeded to gently roll her over onto her back. Pushing her hair back and looking at her face, all his worst fears came true.

It was Catherine who found her voice first. "Good God… It can't be…" Looking down, she found the victim's purse nearby. Digging through it, she pulled out the woman's driver's license, but upon confirming the name, all she could do was hand the ID to Grissom with a shaking hand.

"Gil… It's Sara."

He let the ID fall to the ground beside him as he fell to his knees beside her. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed her ever so lightly as the tears fell from his eyes.

As he grieved, Catherine shone the flashlight over Sara's pale and lifeless looking body. He eyes were open and staring straight ahead. Her jeans were unzipped and stained red with blood from the shot in the back of her left leg. Though her camisole was intact, the buttons were torn off of her blouse. It took all the strength Catherine had not to imagine the horrors Sara must have gone through. Moving the light further along her body, there were bruises visible on her arms and face. As the light passed over the face, her eyes contracted.

"God, Gil... She's alive! Somebody call an ambulance!"

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**A/N: Thank you for your reviews! They mean a lot... I don't know how I'd get through a story without them. Besides, how can you write a great story without knowing what the readers want? Please continue to review... ideas and constructive criticisms are welcome!**

**Teaser: _"Why won't you talk to me?" ... She looked at him with fear in her eyes. "He warned me what would happen if I told anyone... I ran, and look what happened. After that, I tend to believe him."_**


	3. The Aftermath

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Chapter 3: The Aftermath

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The next hour was a blur as the scene bustled with activity. People rushed around trying to look like they weren't completely incompetent, no one wanting to take responsibility for leaving a colleague there to die. Brandon, the new assistant coroner, was getting a good verbal smack in the face from Brass, who could probably be heard a mile away. Police officers scurried here and there trying everything in their power to get any information they could to help the case. Catherine tried to bring Grissom to his senses, but he refused to leave Sara's side, even when the paramedics braved this side of the crime tape to bring her to the ambulance.

After two hours of agonizing worry, Grissom now sat in the waiting room of Desert Palm Hospital, desperate to hear any news of Sara's condition. Catherine sat beside him, partly awaiting her chance to collect any evidence relevant to the case, but mostly just to be sure that Grissom didn't self-destruct. It wasn't too long before Brass was at their side, clearly worn out from the exhausting efforts of restoring the scene to some kind of order.

"Well," he sighed as he dropped into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, "the scene has been cleared once more, the dumbass coroner has been reprimanded, and the boys have been sworn to secrecy as to the identity of our victim under threat of early retirement and/or castration by Catherine."

"Who's going to work the scene?" Grissom asked. "We need to get everything we can from there as soon as possible…"

"Hey, give me a little credit! I did run CSI for a while, you know," Brass defended himself. "I got Nick and Warrick over there. Their cases were transferred to swing shift, and don't worry, they won't know anything about Sara."

"Good," said Catherine. "They don't need to know. She'll be under enough stress as it is."

At that moment, the doctor walked toward them, a clipboard in his hands.

"Mr. Grissom?"

Grissom's head snapped up, and seeing the doctor standing there, he rose to meet him. "How is she?"

"As you know, Ms. Sidle suffered two deep stab wounds to the back. Unfortunately, her lung was punctured, and by the time she arrived here, it had almost collapsed. She was lucky you got her here when you did… We were able to stop the internal bleeding, but we're not going to be able to repair her kneecap. It was shattered from the gunshot… The best we can do is to replace it with a plastic model or put in a steel plate. Either way, she'll be in a wheelchair until we figure out what would be best."

Grissom hung his head. If only he hadn't pushed her to take the time off… How could it have come to this? Who would do such a thing? Of course, that was something that Sara frequently asked herself, he knew. But suddenly, he was brought out of his thoughts as he realized that the doctor wasn't quite finished.

"We went ahead and did a rape kit…"

'_Oh no,_' he pleaded silently. '_God, please no_.'

"… and unfortunately, it came back positive. I can't tell you much, but there was severe bruising. If I had to guess, there was probably object rape, though there was seminal fluid in the mount as well. A swab was taken and is waiting for you in the kit."

Catherine looked at Grissom as he seemed to collapse into himself. She could see him close off to the rest of the world, entering into his own universe of guilt and feigned indifference. Looking at the doctor, she thanked him for all his help.

"Can we go in to see her?"

The doctor nodded. "She's unconscious at the moment, but I don't see why not. If you'll excuse me…" With that, he turned to attend to another patient.

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As the door opened, the lonely familiar music of a hospital room filled their ears. A heart monitor sang its lonely song in one corner while an IV drip plodded out a rhythm. Catherine and Grissom even added their own harmonies when they saw the respirator hooked up to their silent and disheveled friend.

Grissom immediately found the chair beside the bed and collapsed in it. Looking up at Sara, he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, as he had at the scene, and held it there as he began to weep.

Catherine could see the toll this was taking on his conscience. Walking over to him, she set a hand on his shoulder. "Gil, look… I know how much it hurts, but it's not your fault. You-"

"You're the primary on this case," he interrupted her. "I'm staying here."

She stared at the defeated man before her. She looked to Brass, but he simply shrugged from his place by the door. Not thinking of anything else to say, she sighed. "All right. I'll get the kit and anything else from the doc after I scrape her fingers."

She came toward Sara's bed, but he stopped her.

"I'll do it."

But as he reached for the tools from Catherine's kit, there was a creak from the bed as Sara tried to readjust herself. The heart monitor's song quickened its pace. Grissom's head snapped up, his eyes wide with concern and hope.

"Sara?" He held her hand as she moaned. "Sara? Can you hear me?"

Without warning, she sat straight up in the bed, her breathing labored and her eyes wide with fear as she looked around the room wildly in a panic. The heart monitor beeped in a wild rhythm, threatening to deafen those in the small room. Brass came forward, and Catherine joined Grissom at her side, putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her.

"Sara, it's just us…"

She jumped at the touch, jerking away in terror before turning to face her colleagues. After a moment, she began to realize who exactly was beside her, and her panic began to subside, dissolving instead into sheer relief and despair. She leaned forward and pulled Grissom into a hug, sobbing into his chest.

"Shhh, mo múirnín, shhh." He held her gently, stroking herhair in an attempt to let her feel comforted without overbearing her. She held tight to him, finding relief and safety in his arms. Soon, without letting go of him, one of her hands found Catherine's and squeezed tight in a gesture of thanks. Each of her visitors looked at the other, realizing just how hard a blow this ordeal had been.

When she was finished, Sara sat up and sheepishly looked at her colleagues, self-consciously swiping at the wetness on her face. "How long have I been here?" she asked.

"A few hours," answered Catherine, dragging another chair toward the bed from the other side of the room and sitting. "We were worried about you…"

"Do the others know?" Sara continued, as if she hadn't heard her.

"I secured the scene, and I've got Nick and Warrick working it right now, but they don't know," Brass assured her.

"Greg?"

"No, no one else knows. Th-The police at the scene were sworn to secrecy," Catherine stumbled. "Sara, what happened?"

She looked at her hands. "Please don't tell them… It would kill them to see me like this…"

Grissom sighed. It was apparent that she wasn't going to say anything with all these people in the room; she was embarrassed enough as it was. Looking at the others, he nodded to the door, silently asking them to leave. Brass and Catherine looked at each other, and then nodded to Grissom. Making their excuses and wishing Sara well, they walked to the door and left.

Grissom took her hand again. "Sara, what happened?"

Her only response was to blink away a tear.

He squeezed her hand. "Why won't you talk to me?" he pleaded.

She turned to him, fear in her eyes and exasperation in her voice. "He warned me what would happen if I told anyone... I ran, and look what happened. After that, I tend to believe him."

"But you want him to get caught, don't you? We can put him away, Sara, so he can't hurt anyone else. You know that..." He realized that he was pushing the envelope, but justice was the only thing that would fully heal Sara Sidle, and he knew it.

She took a deep breath, determined to get over this and push it down with the rest of her past. But when she saw the concern in his usually unreadable eyes, her heart melted a bit. Taking strength from his touch, she sighed.

"The last case was hard on everyone, and, well… when I left CSI, Ineeded some time just to regroup. I was sitting at the diner that we go to for breakfasts, and ran into someone I knew in high school." As she spoke, Grissom could hear her breathing quicken. She was getting nervous. "I didn't like him then, and I didn't like the look of him now either, so I told him I had to go… but he followed me. Later, we were in this warehouse or something. I was tied to a bed, and-" Her voice cracked as she tried to collect herself enough to continue. "And he… he…"

He stroked his thumb over her skin. "It's alright, múirnín. You don't have to say anything else."

She brushed at the unbidden tears that came, and stared at him for a moment. When she felt that she could talk without shaking again, she asked him, "What does that word mean? You've used it before…"

He was caught off guard. "Oh… I hadn't realized… It's Irish Gaelic. It means... 'my darling one'."

"You speak Irish Gaelic? Since when?"

"Since college. Everyone else was taking Spanish or French, and I wanted to study something different, something unique."

She smiled a bit. "You mean other than bugs?"

Before he could defend himself, Grissom was paged. It was Catherine. "I need to go… The lab needs me." He got up from his spot and picked up his kit, ready to leave, but she stopped him.

"Grissom? Aren't you forgetting something?"

He spun around. "What?"

"My fingernails…"

Setting down his kit, he pulled out a bindle and a scraping tool. Taking the chair by the bed once more, he gently scraped her fingernails for epithelials and any other evidence. Smiling as he put the tools away, he found the labels and the evidence tape and finished his work. Saying a soft goodbye and promising he'd be back soon to visit, he walked to the door and closed it behind him.

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**A/N:** _Okay, okay, stop yelling! I'm sorry it took so long to update! You wouldn't believe all the childishness that goes on in a college... But I finally finished Chapter 3. I hope it's not too dry... While I know that it's improbable that Sara would be scared into silence, I tried not to leave her completely out of character. I wanted the effect to be known. As I've said before, Sara's a strong woman, but she's not invincible, as much as she'd argue to the contrary. If it rattles her, then you know it's gotta be something important. _

**Gryffindor-Wannabe16 - **_Thank you so much for your kind words. It's great to know that I'm not straying too far from the show... I wouldn't want to kill any reality that my fic may have._

**Mochaccino Love - **_It is an honor to know that you approve of my work. I so very much loved reading yours. Keep up the good work, and please know that I'm glad you found me too._

**Wiccamage - **_The teaser is a tool. After the first chapter, I relaized that I had nothing to keep my readers coming back. There was no cliffhanger... so I tagged on a teaser. Looks like it did the trick! After I posted the first chapter though, it seemed kinda lacking if I didn't put another for the second, and so a tradition was born! For this story, at least._

_Thanks again, guys. Your comments mean the world to me! On that note, PLEASE REVIEW! It's good to know what I'm doing right, and what I need to fix... It keeps me sane in an otherwise insane world!_

**Teaser: _"What the hell is goin on, Cath? There's at least four of us working this case, so it's gotta be big, and yet here we are pushing papers and collecting evidence with no idea of what we're looking for!"_**

**_"Warrick, I-"_**

**_"No, you know what?" Nick interrupted. "It's alright. Here, we ran all your evidence for you... Oh, but don't worry, I didn't put it in CODIS, so I still don't know anything." With that, both he and Warrick stormed out of the layout room and toward the break room, leaving Catherine in a state of divided loyalty..._**


	4. The Investigation

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Chapter 4: The Investigation

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Catherine stood in the corner of the ballistics lab, watching intently as Bobby Dawson stared down a microscope at the bullet pulled from Sara's leg. With nothing to do until she got the DNA results from the rape kit and the fingernail scrapings that Grissom brought back, she anxiously awaited Bobby's findings, hoping that in the very least she would have a lead.

"Well," he said, finally lifting his head from the microscope, "this is a .22 caliber bullet, but it definitely wasn't fired by a .22 caliber gun."

She stared at him in confusion. "What?"

"Hey, you know as well as I do that people will do anything to not get caught. This person knew what they were doing. Take a look and tell me what you see."

She moved to the microscope. "What am I looking for, Bobby?"

"Anything out of the ordinary."

"Hmmm… Looks like there's a piece of paper stuck to it."

"Anything else?"

She looked closer, adjusting the lens of the microscope. "No lands and grooves. Except for being misshapen from impact, this bullet looks like it's never been fired."

Bobby smiled as Catherine looked up. "Exactly. One of the oldest tricks used by firearms fanatics is to wrap a bullet in paper or cardboard to make it seem like the weapon used is a different size than the one actually used. Now, I can't tell you how much paper or cardboard was put around the bullet, so I can't say what kind of gun was used. But what I _can_ tell you is that the caliber is somewhere between a .22 and a .30."

She sighed. "Okay, thanks Bobby."

As she made her way out of the ballistics lab and down the hall, she felt a buzzing on her hip. Looking down at her pager, she saw Mia's name and an exclamation point. Hoping beyond hope that that didn't mean what she thought it did, she hurried to the DNA lab.

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"Okay, good news first," the doctor said, glancing back and forth between Grissom, Sara, and his notes. "You're free to go, Ms. Sidle. All the tests came back clear, and until we can figure out what to do with that knee of yours, there's no reason for you to stay. The bad news is that since we can't do anything with your knee yet, you'll be in a wheelchair for some time. That means using elevators and ramps, and under no circumstances are you to try to go up any stairs."

"Thank you," Sara smiled.

"You're quite welcome." Putting his chart under his arm, he smiled at the both of them. "We'll be calling you sometime soon about that knee." And with that, he left.

"Well, let's get you home then," Grissom said.

As he helped her into her wheelchair, she grimaced. "Griss, that might be a bit of a problem…"

"Why?"

"I live in an apartment on the second floor."

"Oh, yeah…" He furrowed his brow as if in deep thought. "Where are you going to go if you still don't want the others to know?"

"Well," she began slowly. "Your townhouse is on the first floor. I could stay with you… That is, unless you don't want me to."

"NO! No, that's fine…" he managed. "There's an extra room, and it will keep the others from asking questions."

She could see the wheels turning in his head. Suddenly, she regretted even mentioning the idea. "Look, you don't have to. All you have to do is say so, and I'll find somewhere else."

"N-no," he stuttered. "No, really, I want you to stay with me. I'm just trying to figure out how we're going to get your things…"

She laughed a little. "Let's figure that one out in the car. I need to get out of here." She started to wheel herself out of the little hospital room. Stopping for a moment, she looked back. "Well, aren't you coming?"

Giving her a sarcastic smirk, he grabbed his jacket and followed her out.

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Catherine came into the DNA lab just as a set of results was coming out of the printer. Mia looked frantic.

"Hey," she called out. "You're just in time. CODIS just kicked out a name for your suspect." Picking up the paper, she read, "Todd Owen. He's got a record a mile long, all the way from B&Es and petty theft to assault with a deadly weapon and rape."

"That's not surprising," Catherine sighed.

"Yeah, well, his DNA matches the fingernail scrapings and the swab from the rape kit, so there's a good chance that he's your man. But that's not what I paged you about. The vaginal contribution on the swab… from the victim? The DNA is a match to-"

Catherine held up a hand. "I know. It's Sara. I was at the scene."

"Oh, God… At first, I just thought that I had gotten some of the samples contaminated, but… God, is she…"

"She's okay. She was just released from the hospital, and Grissom paged me to say that he's taking her home… Look, this is a high profile case and she doesn't want anyone to know. You can't speak of this to _anyone_, do you understand? _Especially_ not Nick, Greg, and Warrick."

Mia nodded, but she wasn't looking at Catherine. Cath turned around to see Nick and Warrick standing right behind her.

"Don't tell us what, Cath?" Nick asked, feigned innocence shooting darts from his eyes.

"Nothing," she said sternly, turning and brushing past them. But she couldn't get rid of them that easily. They turned and followed her into the audio/visual lab as she sat down and started searching for the name Todd Owens.

"Nothing my ass," Warrick retorted.

"Why won't anyone tell us anything about this case?" demanded Nick.

"Because this is a high profile case and I'm the primary, and I told them not to," she said flatly. "The victim wishes to remain anonymous for now. She's embarrassed, and the last thing she wants is for the people she cares about to be worried and take their focus off of what needs to be done."

"That's bullshit!" Warrick called her out, causing her to jump and turn to face him. "What the hell is going on, Cath? There's at least four of us working this case, so it's gotta be big, and yet here we are pushing papers and collecting evidence with no idea of what we're looking for!"

His outburst coupled with the look on his face cut her to the core. "Warrick, I-"

"No, you know what?" Nick interrupted. "It's alright. Here, we ran all your evidence for you..." He dumped a pile of papers and evidence bags on the table beside her. "Oh, but don't worry, I didn't put it in CODIS, so I still don't know anything."

With that, both he and Warrick stormed out of the layout room and toward the break room, leaving Catherine in a state of divided loyalty. She wanted so much to be honest with them. They were her best friends… really, her only friends since she didn't really talk to anyone outside of her work. This wasn't how friends treated each other. She started to call out after them, but then she remembered her promise to Sara. Granted, the two of them hadn't always seen eye to eye, but over time they had come to trust and respect one another. Catherine didn't want to lose any of the ground they had gained.

Frustrated, she turned back to the work before her, telling herself that the sooner Sara's case was solved, the sooner she could patch things up with the others.

* * *

**A/N:** _Thank you once again to all of you who have reviewed. They're very encouraging and have been a tremendous help. I know it's taken forever to update, but with final exams coming up, not to mention numerous family troubles... well, life can sometimes get in the way. Please, if you would, keep us all in your thoughts and prayers._

**cold-blue-perception: **_I'm so glad that you approve. You have no idea how meaningful it is to have such a regular reader and reviewer like you. Thank you so much for your comments. On that note, I too have found that many authors turn Catherine into something that she's not. I love her character, and can't seem to understand why so many authors have made her so cruel. While it's true that she can be spiteful and harsh at times, there are so many other levels to her character, and that is what I wanted to portray, in this story as well as others._

**emma: **_I'm so glad that you found me... but be patient. I'm updating as fast as I can, and besides, half the fun is in the suspense! _:-)

_Please keep reviewing! It helps make the story what it is._

**Teaser: ****_"What do you think about this guy?" Catherine asked after ringing the doorbell._**

**_"Well, after seeing what he did to Sara, I get the feeling that they weren't exactly the best of friends." ..._**

**_Suddenly, there was a boom and the sound of broken glass as a bullet whizzed by Brass's head. Pulling their weapons, they searched for some kind of cover... _**


	5. The Evidence

----- ----- -----

Chapter 5: The Evidence

----- ----- -----

As the computer worked the database for the name Todd Owen, Catherine looked through the pile of evidence Nick had left on the table. On top was the case file. She decided to start there. Having only briefly been at the scene, maybe this would help her get an idea of what exactly had happened.

Opening the file, she spread the contents before her. Photographs from the scene, the sketch, notes, results pages, and the evidence and time logs spilled forth, as if battling for her attention. One by one, she studied the pieces of the puzzle, each bringing a more daunting picture before her eyes.

The photographs proved to be the most difficult to look at. The small pool of Sara's blood on the cold cement floor of the warehouse brought her back to those grief-stricken moments at the scene. The next showed a chair in the middle of the warehouse, a pair of handcuffs on the floor beside it. Scanning through several of the others, she came to the bottom of the pile of photographs and was stopped in her tracks by what she saw. The last photo was worse than the rest, showing a bed pushed into the corner, the covers rustled and the white linen ties stained red. Unable to imagine the pain and suffering Sara must have gone through, Catherine set the photo aside. As she searched for what to analyze next, her eyes drifted to the pile of evidence where one bag in particular caught her attention. She felt a small stab in the heart as she realized that it contained the sheets and linen ties.

Moving to the evidence log and putting on a pair of gloves, she checked to make sure that everything collected was sitting before her. Besides the sheets, there were two small bindles. Opening each, she let slide onto the table misshapen .22 caliber bullets. According to the log, they'd been pulled from the wall of the warehouse and had already been to Bobby D in the ballistics lab, where they'd been determined a match to the bullet pulled from Sara's leg. Also sitting nearby was a rather large bag containing a six inch serrated blade coated with dried blood. Catherine made a mental note to check with Mia later for the DNA results off the hilt and the blood.

Just then, the computer beeped and maximized the database window showing the long list of offenses committed by one Todd Owen. Her hatred for this shadow of a man grew as she scanned the list. It seemed he'd committed every crime known to man and felt no remorse. Frustrated to no end, she slammed her fist against the table in anger, stripped off her gloves, and rested her head in her hands to decompress, asking herself if keeping Sara's secret was worth loosing her mind.

"Case getting to you, too?" came a voice from the hall. She turned to see Brass leaning in the doorframe. Sighing, she nodded.

"Hey," he said with a smile, "I heard you were looking for a warrant." He waved a piece of paper in the air. "Wanna go find this Todd Owen character and haul his ass in here for an interview?"

Catherine stood. "Anything to get out of this lab."

----- ----- -----

Grissom stood on the sidewalk simply staring at the stairs. Turning to Sara, he asked, "How are we going to get you up there again?"

"I told you, just wheel the chair up backwards."

"With you in it?"

"No, I'll be waiting in the car," she said sarcastically. "Of _course_ with me in it! How else do you think we're going to get into my apartment?"

He looked back up at the stairs. "I don't know about this, Sara."

"Come on," she said, wheeling herself right up to the bottom step. "If I'm going to stay anywhere, I'm going to at least need a suitcase. I mean, do you really want me going around your apartment in your shirt and sweatpants?"

His hesitation earned him a smack on the leg. With a smile, he sighed. "Okay, okay…"

Ten minutes later, she was cheering him on as he pulled her up the last step to the top of the stairs. Winded, he leaned against the railing to catch his breath.

"I told you this would work!" she smiled, wheeling herself over to her apartment door a few feet away and taking the key from her purse in her lap.

"Yeah," he breathed. "The fun part's going to be getting you back down."

Heading inside, she insisted that he wait for her in the living room while she got her things together. He could hear her bustling around as she tried to pack a suitcase. Sitting in a comfortable chair, he couldn't help but remember the first and only other time he'd been in her apartment. He'd sat in this same chair and tried to comfort her as she'd poured her heart out to someone she at least somewhat trusted. Now she was putting her past in his hands again, trusting him to take care of her, and as sturdy as she looked, he knew he held precious cargo.

It was about a half an hour later when Sara wheeled herself out of the back room and saw him sitting in the chair, a sad look on his face. Coming up next to him, she put her hand over his on the armrest and smiled when he squeezed back.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" she asked softly.

"You," he whispered, his eyes sparkling in the deepest blue she'd ever seen. Standing, took the suitcase from her, walked behind her chair, and leaned down to her ear. "Let's get you home."

----- ----- -----

Looking at the old brick house as Brass's blue Taurus pulled up to the curb, Catherine suddenly debated whether she wanted to face Sara's attacker. Normally, she would've had to restrain herself from kicking the shit out of the scumbag, but it was cases like this made her realize just how close crime really was from her own backyard. Not that she ever really forgot after Eddie's death and Lindsey's near drowning, but still…

It took Brass coming around and opening the door for her to snap her out of the trance. "You ready?" he asked.

Nodding, she stepped out of the car and walked with him up to the front porch.

"What do you think about this guy?" Catherine asked after ringing the doorbell.

"Well, after seeing what he did to Sara, I get the feeling that they weren't exactly the best of friends," Brass replied, moving over to one of the windows and trying to see inside.

"From what little Sara told Grissom, they knew each other in high school. Seems she didn't think much of him then, either."

Brass snorted. "Looking at his rap sheet, I don't think much of him _now_…" Knocking on the door again, he looked to Catherine. "How long does it take to answer the damn door? The way he's avoiding us, you'd think he knew we were coming."

Suddenly, there was a boom and the sound of broken glass as a bullet whizzed by Brass's head. Pulling their weapons, they searched for some kind of cover.

"I think we found our missing handgun!" Catherine said, as they ducked around the porch corner.

Brass gave a dry chuckle. "Very funny, Cath." Pushing her back as another shot was fired, he quickly grabbed his radio. "Dispatch, this is Roger-9-1-9-7. We have a 413 at 724 Sanderling Circle during routine evidence collection! Shots fired! We need backup!"

"LVPD!" Cath shouted. "Come on out, Mr. Owen! We just want to ask you a few questions!"

The only response was another shot, taking away a bit of the brick in front of her face.

"I don't think he liked your offer," Brass stated bluntly, firing a shot around her and breaking a window in the process.

"I'm gonna find a better angle."

He grabbed her by the shoulder. "What the hell are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?"

"Well, we can't both shoot from the same spot!" she retorted. "It's too easy of a target. Plus, we'll have a better chance of catching him if we're coming from two different angles. You can't see around that corner anyways."

With that, she left her kit on the ground beside him, and took off across the front yard, heading for the small garden near the fence. Diving behind the large stone bench in a bed of tall weeds, she crouched low and held her weapon up, ready to fire. She heard several shots hit the other side of the bench and realized that the focus had turned to her.

Apparently Brass noticed too. She watched as he turned the corner and fired three shots at the window. Taking cover once again behind the brick corner of the house, he screamed into his radio, asking where the hell was his backup. It wasn't long before they heard sirens screaming up the road. Squad cars appeared from both directions, and several officers joined in the shootout. What had started as a routine evidence collection had turned into utter chaos, bullets flying everywhere as they fought to bring down a ghost of a man.

Catherine once again took a chance and popped up from her hiding place, firing two shots in the direction of the window, but before she could crouch again, she felt a sharp pain in her chest that knocked her to the ground.

"Catherine!"

She didn't respond. An eerie silence suddenly filled the area as firing ceased. Realizing that Owen had probably run out of ammo, Brass looked to his colleagues and nodded toward the house, giving them the signal to search out the suspect. As half the officers moved toward the house, he holstered his weapon and ran past the cover officers as he rushed over to Catherine.

"Cath?" he shouted again. Looking down, he saw a hole in her vest where the bullet had hit her. Lifting her torso so she was sitting up, he was relieved when she groaned in pain.

"Shit…"

"Cath, you alright?"

"Yeah, it hit my vest… Hurt like hell, though." Raising her arm gingerly to take the vest off, she looked down at her shoulder to see it already beginning to bruise. "Yeah, that'll leave a mark."

"Well, the guys are pulling Owen out right now. He'll go to jail anyway for that little stunt he just tried to pull, but we'll bring him into interrogation and see if we can't get him to talk about what he did with Sara…" He offered his hand. "Come on. Let's get you up and doing your job."

----- ----- -----

* * *

**A/N: **_Okay, chapter 5 is up and running... I tried to use a good range of emotion. I just hope it wasn't overkill... Oh, and for future reference, 413 is officer's code for suspect with a gun. Please review!_

**Teaser:_ "So I heard you guys have an interesting case on your hands," she smiled._**

**_"We wouldn't really know," Nick snorted. "Grissom's been gone for days and Catherine is hogging all the evidence. We don't even know who the vic is, or what the hell happened."_**

**_She looked at the floor. "I do." ..._**


	6. The Story

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Chapter 6: The Story

----- ----- -----

"So, you're the infamous Todd Owen… Somehow I expected more."

Catherine sneered at the man sitting in the chair as she came into the interrogation room. His freckled features were hard as stone, his unruly auburn hair hanging down in front of his cold, unfeeling eyes. He stared at her as she moved to the chair opposite the table from him.

"Tell me, Todd," Brass said, leaning on the chair next to Catherine. "Did you have fun with your little shootout?"

When he didn't answer, Cath gave a dry chuckle. "I really hope you did, cause you're gonna spend the rest of your life behind bars with nothing to show for it."

At that comment, he lunged forward, knocking his chair over in the process and causing the guard in the corner to come out of the shadows to restrain him.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger," Catherine said in an innocent voice. "Oh, wait… You already did."

"We know someone else you shot, too," Brass said flatly. "Why don't you tell us about Sara Sidle?"

"That bitch got what she deserved!" Owen yelled. "And you can tell her family I said that!"

"Why don't you tell her yourself, Todd? She didn't die…"

Silence engulfed the room for a moment, as his eyes grew wide with shock and fear.

"That's right... You left a witness. See, here's what we know." Brass laid out the photos from the scene. "You followed her from the diner where you saw her that morning. You took her to a warehouse in Henderson, where you handcuffed her to a chair and beat her. After that, you tied her to a bed where you raped her, and when she tried to run, you shot her in the leg and then stabbed her twice in the back."

"And then you ran, like the coward you are, and you left her there to die." Catherine stared at him in disgust. "Lucky for you, she got to the hospital on time, or we'd've been _really_ pissed."

"Good news is we're willing to make a deal. You tell us what really happened, and you might get some time off your sentence." Brass picked up the pictures and put them back in the file as Catherine held a staring contest with Owen. Anger burned in his eyes as the battle went on.

"So, what's the deal?" Brass probed. "You willing to save yourself some trouble and talk to us?"

His only response was to stand and spit at their feet.

"Alright, get him out of here," said Brass, as the officer restrained him once again and led him out of the interrogation room.

----- ----- -----

"That was him," Sara affirmed, as Catherine stepped into the observation room and stood beside Grissom.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I could never forget that face… After fifteen years, I still can't forget that face."

Catherine sighed. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Sara… It's not fair."

"But it's over," Sara said firmly. She turned from the mirrored glass and wheeled herself into the corridor.

"Where are you going?" Grissom asked.

"To find Nick and Warrick. They deserve to know what's happened."

She found them in the break room, sour looks on their faces as they ate in silence.

"Hey guys."

"Hey Sar- _Sara, what happened_?" Nick jumped up from his seat, concern obvious in his voice and in his eyes.

Warrick followed suit. "I thought you were on vacation!"

She scoffed. "Do me a favor: Next time I even _mention_ the word 'vacation', remind me of this." Seeing their worry, she put on a smile. "Don't worry about it… It's over, and I'm back. So I heard you guys have an interesting case on your hands," she said, her expression turning serious again.

"We wouldn't really know," Nick snorted. "Grissom's been gone for days and Catherine is hogging all the evidence. We don't even know who the vic is, or what the hell happened."

She looked at the floor. "I do."

Both Nick and Warrick stared at her in disbelief as she wheeled herself to the table. Catherine and Grissom silently made their way into the room, blending into the background as focus centered on Sara and the story she was about to tell.

"I've known her all my life… and I know her better than anyone. She was embarrassed by what happened, that's why she didn't want anyone to know." Looking up, and blinking back tears, Sara gathered her strength and continued. "She took a few days off of work to regroup after a hard week, and decided to go to a nearby diner for breakfast, but while she was there she ran into someone from her past… Someone she didn't want anything to do with. She'd known the man in high school, and she'd never told anyone about what had happened between them… that he'd raped her on the night of their junior prom, and gotten away with it. So, when she saw him again in the diner, she got nervous. She told him that she had to go, but he followed her out… The next thing she remembered was being chased down and a cloth being put over her face, then waking up handcuffed to a chair in the middle of a warehouse."

Stopping to take a breath, she looked to the others. Grissom and Catherine stood against the wall, sympathy and compassion in their eyes. Nick and Warrick had opted for the chairs on either side of her and were listening intently to her every word; hungry for any information that would solve the mystery of the case they'd been working blindly.

"He was sitting nearby, staring at her with a hunger in his eyes. He told her that she deserved this for what she had done to him. He said that she was his, and had been for fifteen years, ever since that night in high school. When she defied him, he… he beat her and moved her to a bed in the corner." Anger slowly crept into her voice as she remembered every painful detail, tears freely flowing now. "He tied her down with linen straps, and he raped her."

Catherine looked down to Sara's wrists to see the scabs from where she had obviously fought against the linen straps. Her mind flew back to the photographs. Closing her eyes, she tried to wipe the images from her mind as she heard Sara continue.

"When she screamed for help, he beat her till he knocked her out. She woke up in the chair again. The next time he tried to move her to the bed, she managed to free her arm from his grip and elbowed him in the stomach." She grew louder, swiping at her tears. "When his grip loosened, she ran… but before she could reach the door he pulled his gun and shot her in the leg. She fell, and when she started screaming, he decided to end it all… He pulled out a knife and stabbed her twice in the back, then leaned over and whispered in her ear, saying that she had brought it upon herself and that if she hadn't run then she could've been his forever… and he _left_ her there! He just _left _her there to die!"

By now, Sara was shouting, her face screwed up in pain and anger. While the boys were left to wonder how she knew so many of the details, Grissom hurried from his place by the door and took her hands in his in an attempt to comfort her.

"It's alright, Sara," he whispered, drying her tears and pulling her into a hug. "It's over."

She held tight to him, drawing from his strength. Catherine joined him at her side and put a hand on her shoulder for comfort. A moment later, when she composed herself enough to speak again, she looked to the others and saw understanding dawn.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Warrick asked, sorrow overshadowing his normally bright green eyes.

"I'm _so _sorry," she managed. "I shouldn't've had them keep it secret, but I didn't want you to worry… You needed to focus on the case, and you couldn't do that if you were worried about me."

Nick turned to Catherine. "You couldn't even tell us that Sara was hurt?"

She looked up in shock and hurt. "How can you ask me that after everything she just told you!"

"You didn't have to tell us she had anything to do with the case, but you could at least have said _something_!" Warrick said bitterly.

"I wanted to, believe me, but she asked me not to tell _anyone_, _especially_ you guys!"

Seeing the anger in their eyes as they argued, Sara's once again filled with tears. Not being able to stand watching the team fall apart because of her actions, she quickly wheeled herself out of the room and down the hall.

"Now look what you did!" Nick shouted.

Grissom started after her, but Catherine held him back. "Let her go, Gil. She needs to work through this on her own."

"No, Catherine!" He shook himself free of her. "I will _not_ have her leave here thinking that this is anyone's fault, let alone _hers_!"

With that, he left the others to their bickering and ran after Sara.

----- ----- -----

* * *

**A/N: **_After so long, I finally finished this chapter... This one was hard, much harder than I thought it would be. See, I had everything worked out until this point, so I didn't really know what was going to happen after the shootout scene, and I really don't know what will happen next, other than what I've put in the teaser. So, I really need your help from here on out... I NEED YOUR REVIEWS! And I need your ideas. Keep 'em comin'!_

**Wiccamage: **_Of course I didn't kill off Cath! How dare you even suggest such a thing! j/k. I love Catherine, too. Her character just has so many sides, and therefore, _endless_ possibilities. I love exploring all of her different angles. Besides, I think that one of the many wonderful challenges of being an author is stretching your characters to new limits. Don't worry, there's much more to come, regarding Catherine and the others as well... _

**Teaser: _"I'm so sorry," she whispered._**

**_"Shhh..." he hushed her and cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her soft skin. Taking her by the hand, he led her through the house to the bedroom._**

**_"What about-?"_**

**_"We had a fight," he answered, anticipating her question. "She left this morning." Giving her a reassuring smile, he closed the door. ..._**


	7. The Silence Broken

**----- ----- -----**

**Chapter 7: The Silence Broken**

**----- ----- -----**

Grissom called her name as he chased her out into the halls of the lab, surprised at her speed, but for once he was glad for the many people that occupied the halls. As she maneuvered her way around the corners and curves, she was slowed by the usual hallway traffic, giving him a chance to catch up to her.

"Sara!" he called out again as he caught her near the empty entrance, managing to grab hold of one of the handle grips of the chair. This proved to be a mistake. While the chair stopped, Sara did not and instead flew forward, sprawling out onto the tile floor.

"God, Sara! Are you okay?" he cried in concern.

She rolled herself onto her back and sat up in her spot. "Well," she managed, "at least we know the brakes work…"

"Sara, I'm so sorry… Let me help you."

When he moved forward, she raised a hand to stop him. "I'm fine," she sniffled, shining streaks still running down her face. "I can do it myself." Determined to prove her independence, she turned herself around, and putting her back to Grissom and her chair, lifted her hands to the seat and pulled herself up, using her good leg as a brace. After she'd finally gotten herself situated, she took a deep breath, and once more began to move to the door.

"Where are you going?" Grissom asked, grabbing the wheelchair's handles once more.

"Home," she said defiantly, tearing herself away.

"Really? How are you going to get there?"

His words stopped her in her tracks. She stayed in that spot for a moment, simply staring at the door in front of her as the reality of everything that had happened once again washed over her, drowning her in sorrow.

He sighed and pushed her into his office, shutting the door behind him. He sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, facing her as she sat helplessly in the dark depths of her memories.

"Sara," he started, but she cut him off.

"What am I still doing here, Grissom?"

Her words caught him off guard. "What?"

"Everything I do ends up hurting someone. Why am I still here?"

"Sara, that's not true," he countered.

"Yes, it is. My first assignment here was to investigate Warrick after the Gribbs girl died. Later, I had to find out what happened to Eddie, and I couldn't even do that for Catherine. I've screwed up so many cases because I can't keep my temper around the suspects… and look what happened in the break room just now. Everyone's mad at Catherine because she listened to _me_."

"Sara, that is _not_ your fault! She had a choice whether or not to tell them, and she chose to honor your privacy. She was doing what she felt was right."

She shook her head. "They were so angry…"

"They weren't there!" he yelled, making her head snap up in surprise. "They didn't see what Catherine and I saw!" He took a few moments to collect himself, running a trembling hand through his silver hair. "This week has been so hard on everyone, and to hear what happened to you put the icing on the cake… Just give it time, and everything will sort out, okay?"

She nodded, swiping at the trails of wetness on her face.

"Alright… What do you say we get back over there and settle things down a bit, huh?"

When she nodded again, he walked to the door and opened it for her before they headed side-by-side back down the hall to the break room.

----- ----- -----

They were surprised to find the room empty but for Catherine sitting with her head down on the break room table.

"Where'd everybody go?" Sara asked, plastering a smile on her face as she went to Catherine's side.

Her answer was muffled. "They left."

Looking to Grissom for support, Sara put an arm around her friend. "It's almost the end of shift. You want a ride home?"

Sighing, Catherine sat up and shook her head. "No, I'm okay. I've got my car here… I just wish there was some way to make them understand."

"I know. So do I."

Grissom came forward. "Why don't you go ahead and go home… I think we're about ready to leave anyways. There's nothing left to do today."

Catherine nodded. "Thanks guys. I've got some straightening up to do in my office, and then I'll go." Standing up, she hugged her friends, and said goodnight.

----- ----- -----

That morning proved to be agony for Catherine. When she got home, her mother had taken Lindsey to school and left a note on the table saying that she would be out for the day. Her footsteps seemed to echo in the empty house as she tried to clear her mind of the morning's events.

Food seemed tasteless, and sleeping proved to be impossible. As the hours passed, Warrick's words played like a broken record in her mind… _"What the hell is going on, Cath? … Here we are pushing papers and collecting evidence with no idea of what we're looking for!_ _…You could at least have said something!" …_

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing her purse, she got in her car and started driving. She didn't remember much of the drive, but she was glad for where it took her. Hesitating, she worked up the nerve to go up to the door and knock before her courage left her. In the few minutes she had, she practiced what she would say, but when he finally answered, all words left her.

They stood for a few moments in silence, simply staring at one another. After what seemed like an eternity, he sighed and started to close the door.

"No," she pleaded. "Warrick, don't! Please, I-"

"You what?" he said, anger tingeing his voice.

She looked to the ground, tears starting to form. She suddenly felt ashamed, and she was sorry that she'd even come. She turned to leave.

His heart melted a bit at her meekness. Opening the door wider, he called after her.

"Catherine, wait…" When she turned around, he moved out of the doorway, silently inviting her in. He watched as she hesitated, and finally drew a deep breath before accepting the invitation.

Closing the door behind her, he pointed her towards the living room. "Can I get you anything?" When she shook her head, he came and joined her in the living room, sitting in a nearby chair. She had opted for the couch, leaning against the arm for support with her feet tucked under her and to the side. She looked down at her hands and worked up the courage to say what desperately needed to be said. But he beat her to it.

"What are you doing here, Catherine?"

"I came- I came to apologize… I didn't know…" She sighed. "I'm not going to apologize for what I did, because that would be admitting that I did something wrong, and I don't think that I did."

"Cath, you _lied_ to us!" he interrupted, anger and hurt reflecting in his eyes.

"No, I didn't," she corrected him. "I told you the God's honest truth, that Sara wanted to remain anonymous, and the last thing she wanted was for the people she cared about to be worried and take their focus off the case. That meant you and Nick. I respected her wishes and I kept my promise."

An awkward silence filled the room as they stared at one another. Their eyes locked and held, reading what was plainly written there. In each, there was the desire to be angry with the other but it wouldn't hold with so many other emotions mixing in.

Breaking the silence, Catherine sighed and looked down momentarily. Taking this as her only opportunity, she found his eyes again and said, "I _will_, however, apologize for what that promise did to you. I didn't mean for it to hurt you."

Warrick got up from his spot in the chair and joined her on the couch in a gesture of forgiveness, making her shift in her seat. When she saw the anger fade from his features and found only sympathy and love there, her shaky wall of strength finally crumbled. She found safety in his arms as she collapsed into him.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, as the silent tears fell.

"Shhh…" He stroked her hair in an attempt to comfort and support her.

"You can't imagine what it was like… to see her an inch from death, and then her embarrassment when we saw her at her worst…"

He sat her up and lifted her chin to look into her watery eyes. Giving a small smile, he silently began to kiss her tears away. Her eyes fluttered closed at his touch, filling her with a warmth that she hadn't felt in a long time. When he came to her lips, she could hold back no longer. What began as a soft round of comfort turned into a caressing kiss of love and longing.

A moment later, he stood and pulled her up to join him. Holding her in his arms, he cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her soft skin. He then took her by the hand and led her through the house to the bedroom.

"What about-?"

"We had a fight," he answered, anticipating her question. "She left this morning." Giving her a reassuring smile, he closed the door.

----- ----- -----

* * *

**A/N: **_I'm sorry that took as long to update as it did, but I finally got this chapter up. I hope I didn't leave the characters too out of place... I had some major Cath/Warrick cravings this past week and I had to find a way to pull them back together without completely ruining their characters._

_**Lord Jimi: **Thank you so much for reading... I know that must've been an awkward conversation after everything that had happened, but I was grateful. Thanx for being such an awesome friend. As I've said before, youre like a brother, and it means so much that you enjoyed the story. As for ending it, well, trust me: it's not over yet. I hope this chapter brings enough magic to hold you over for at least a little while. _:-)

_PLEASE REVIEW!_

**Teaser: _A smile on her lips, Sara moaned and stretched as she awoke, twisting the covers even more than they already were. But suddenly, something seemed out of place. She was cold._**

**_She turned to see that she was alone. In his place on the pillow was a short handwritten note. Afraid at what it might say, she reached over with a trembling hand, and began to read. ..._**


	8. The Surgery

**----- ----- -----**

**Chapter 8: The Surgery**

**----- ----- -----**

It was dark outside. The drapes were drawn. The room was silent.

A smile on her lips, Sara moaned and stretched as she awoke, twisting the covers even more than they already were. But suddenly, something seemed out of place… She was cold.

She turned to see that she was alone. In his place on the pillow was a short handwritten note. Afraid at what it might say, she reached over with a trembling hand, and began to read:

_Dia duit, a Aliamh. _

Please don't take my absence to mean that I regret anything from this morning. I don't. You gave me a gift I thought I would never gain: your trust. I now know how much that means.  
Call me when you read this… Get some rest, mo múirnín. I can't get home soon enough.

Forever yours,  
Grissom

Lying back on the pillow, she breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at herself for ever doubting him. She thought back to everything that had happened between them over the years and wondered why it had taken this long. Not that she was ungrateful… She wasn't. She was fulfilling her fantasies just by being here. But why had it taken such a nightmare to bring this dream into reality? He'd had so many other chances…

She shook her head, telling herself that it was useless to dwell in the past if she couldn't change it, though she desperately wished that she could. Pulling back the twisted covers, she managed to get herself up and to her suitcase to change. After all, he'd be home soon.

----- ----- -----

He hung up the phone as he walked in the front door, his blue booties making light imprints on the cranberry colored carpet. He heard laughing from the back room and decided to check it out. Moving in that direction, he could make out the voices of Catherine and Warrick, but when he looked into the room he could only smirk at what he saw. Warrick was squatting next to the large bed looking underneath with his flashlight. Grissom could only assume that Catherine was on the other side doing the same thing. Evidently, neither was bothered by being called in early to investigate a 419 related to another recent case. In fact, both seemed to find something extremely amusing.

"Playing Hide and Seek?" Grissom asked, making his presence known.

Warrick spun around at the sound of his voice, causing him to lose his balance and fall over. Catherine popped up from the other side, a shy smile on her face as her cheeks flushed.

Grissom smirked again. "Okay, I won't ask. Just wanted to let you know that the scene is yours from here on out. I have to go take Sara to the doctor."

The smiles faded from the others' faces.

"Why? What's wrong?" Catherine asked, coming around the bed and turning off her flashlight.

"Is she okay?" Warrick added, pulling himself up.

"She's fine," he assured them. "She has an appointment to get her knee checked out. They're supposed to be deciding how to fix it. We'll be back by this afternoon. I'm sending Nick over to help you guys."

They nodded and got back to work. Before Grissom left the house, however, he heard another bout of laughter come from the room.

----- ----- -----

"Okay, so here's what we're gonna do, Dr. Grissom," the doctor explained. "We did some tests and it's as we expected: a lot of damage. I don't need to tell you that a kneecap can't be repaired once it's shattered… It looks like we're going to have to repair some tendons and nerves, and then we can put in the plastic kneecap. It will work like the real thing, but it'll take some time for her to adjust to it. She'll have to come in for rehab."

Grissom nodded in understanding. "How long will it take?"

"Well, we had a cancellation that created an opening, and she decided to take it. She's being prepped right now. We should have her out of the OR and into a private room in a few hours."

"How long before she can come back to work?"

"We'll have another look-see after two weeks of therapy and then make a decision… You can either wait here or we can call you when she's out of surgery."

Grissom thought a moment. More work could be done if he was at the lab, but it wouldn't be efficient… His mind – and his heart - would be with Sara. He let the latter make the decision for him.

"I'll stay here," he said firmly.

The doctor nodded. "We'll let you know when she's out." He turned and left.

----- ----- -----

Catherine sat in the break room with the rest of the group a few hours later, discussing the most recent case. Taking Grissom's usual seat at the head of the table, she looked from face to face as they reviewed the facts, taking in all the small details and wondering if this was what Grissom saw when he sat here. She watched as Greg leaned back in his chair, his leg bouncing in a nervous rhythm as he listened to the details in this case being compared to another in the recent past. She saw Nick close himself off emotionally as he drew similarities between the two victims. She heard Warrick sigh and watched as his bright green eyes glanced first over the notes and then over the photographs of the scene… They all felt the absence of the others, and their worry for Sara was palpable, but the case must go on, right?

Catherine was just about to share her input when her phone rang.

"Willows," she answered.

"Catherine, it's Grissom. Where are you?"

"I'm in the break room… Why?"

"Are the others nearby?" he asked quickly, ignoring her question.

"Yes. Gil, what's going on?"

"Put your cell on speakerphone."

Sighing, she complied. "Okay, Gill, you have our attention. What's up?"

"Sara's in surgery… Something's wrong."

Instant concern sent shockwaves through the veins of those listening. Worried glances were passed as Catherine spoke for them all.

"How is she? What's going on?"

"I don't know…" It was obvious that Grissom was in a state of panic. "They were just supposed to fix her knee…"

"Grissom, calm down!" Catherine commanded, the mother in her taking over. "We'll be right over." Hanging up her cell phone, she grabbed her jacket and her keys, the rest of them in tow as she headed for the parking lot. Once they reached the Tahoe, she tossed the keys to Warrick, her meaning clear. Maybe for once, his crazy driving habits would come in handy.

----- ----- -----

* * *

**A/N: **_OK, I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but I felt like I had to post something before you thought I dropped off the face of the earth. I've also been working on another story with a friend of mine, so I've been a little distracted. To refresh your memory, "mo múirnín" means "my darling one" in Irish Gaelic, and "Aliamh" means "Bright one". Please review... tell me what you think so I can get the next chapter up quick.  
**Ace47: **If you know my writing by now, you'd know that I would never let Grissom hurt her like that... unless it needed to happen. In this case it didn't. The bond needed to be there for when she went into surgery... I felt like they needed to be on good terms before ... well, I can't give it away. Let's just say that there needed to be the feeling of peace.  
**All: **Many of you have expressed concern about Catherine's character. Let me be the first to say that I love Catherine. I love the fact that she has so many different sides to her character. She's an author's dream... There are so many angles to explore, but I tend to cringe when people turn her into something that she's not. In this story (and all my others), while she may not be the focus of the story, she is definitely a large part of the team and that means that they've all seen her different sides by now. As an honest author, I cannot hope to keep her in character if I don't show them all. That means showing her kindness, her anger, her sympathy, her spite, her joys, her sorrows, her triumphs, and her failures. Please understand that in anything I do, I try to keep Catherine and all the others within character. If I ever fail in this attempt, PLEASE let me know._

**Teaser: _It was midnight, but Grissom didn't hear the bells chime twelve. He didn't see the stars twinkle in a sky as black as pitch. He didn't hear the cheers of the crowd as they 'oohed' and 'aahed' at the light show overhead on Freemont Street. All his attention was focused on what was happening on the other side of the operating doors as he and the rest of the team looked on through the inch-thick glass window._**

**_He watched helplessly as they pumped her chest, trying to reverse the flatline on the monitor. When that didn't work, the paddles came out..._**

**_Finally, the surgeon took off his mask and met the small crowd in the hallway, an apologeic look on his face. ..._**


	9. The Unthinkable

**----- ----- -----**

**Chapter 9: The Unthinkable**

**----- ----- -----**

It was midnight, but Grissom didn't hear the bells chime twelve. He didn't see the stars glimmer in a sky as black as pitch. He didn't hear the cheers of the crowd as they 'oohed' and 'aahed' at the light show overhead on Freemont Street. All his attention was focused on what was happening on the other side of the operating doors as he and the rest of the team looked on through the inch-thick glass window.

Grissom pressed himself against the glass, praying for the first time in years to the God of his childhood for mercy. He watched helplessly as they pumped her chest, trying to reverse the flat-line on the monitor. He counted the compressions… matched breath for breath the air that invaded her lungs with every pump of the respirator. When CPR proved useless, the paddles came out. The group grimaced each time they saw her limp body jump with electric shock. Even Catherine was close to tears, regardless of the fact that the women had never had a great relationship.

Finally, the surgeon took off his mask and met the small crowd in the hallway, an apologetic look on his face.

"I'm sorry," he began, but Nick cut him off.

"Don't say you're sorry, just get back in there and do your job!"

"I'm afraid there's nothing else we can do… I don't know what went wrong. It should've been a simple procedure."

This time, Warrick stepped up. "Well, then you can bet your ass that we'll ask our coroner to do an autopsy, and when he tells us what happened we'll be back here suing you ass for malpractice!"

"Warrick!" Catherine turned. "We're _all_ upset, okay?"

Grissom, however, said nothing. His eyes had yet to leave Sara. As he watched helplessly while the other doctors began to clean and put away their instruments, one thought kept making its way through his brain: it isn't possible… Suddenly, the ring in his breast pocket felt like an anchor weighing him to the ocean floor. At that point, he couldn't stand to stare at her limp and lifeless body any longer. He wanted to get out, to leave this building and everything in it behind like a bad memory, but he knew that he couldn't. Not even one of his experiments would pull him from the torrential whirlpool that had just devoured him. He turned his back on the scene and slid down the wall until he hit the floor, knees pulled to his chest, and put his head in his hands. How could this have happened?

As the doctor made his apologies once more, the group tuned him out and turned to their broken brother. Catherine plopped down beside him on the floor and laid her head on his shoulder, suddenly unable to hold it up on her own. Nick squatted on Grissom's other side with tears making wet trails down his cheeks, while Warrick knelt beside Catherine. His normally bright green eyes were dark with sorrow as he placed one hand on her shoulder and the other on Grissom's knee. Greg simply stood by Nick in shock and despair.

Suddenly there was the sound of running footsteps and huffs of breath. The team looked up to see Brass running toward them.

"I came as soon as I heard," he called. "How is she?"

Their expressions spoke louder than words, the loss palpable.

Brass's face contorted as his fears became reality. "Oh God, no…" Turning to the doctor, the news was confirmed and the team watched as the usually unbreakable detective deflated with grief, one of the only times they'd seen him cry.

Seeing that there was nothing else that he could do to minimize their pain, the doctor turned to leave. He had almost made it to the swinging operation room doors when the air was suddenly filled with an unearthly screeching. It didn't take long for the entire entourage to realize that the heart monitor in the OR was going mad. The CSIs leapt from their anguished stances and plastered their faces against the glass, staring at the green line zigzag out of control. Hope flourished once more as they watched the doctors scramble.

Their eyes were torn from the scene as one of the doctors burst through the operation room door and called to the surgeon:

"It was a clot! We need you to help stabilize!"

The surgeon hesitated for a millisecond, as if trying to figure out how such a thing could've happened on his table. Warrick caught his pause and didn't hesitate to speak his mind.

"Well, what the hell are you doing? Get your ass back in there!"

The surgeon did just that, and without a second thought, he closed the curtains over the window, blocking the team's view of what was going on and leaving them in suspense and trepidation.

----- ----- -----

For the next hour, they sat in the waiting room, where they had been escorted by a heavyset nurse with no time or patience to spare. The wait proved agonizing. Brass sat on the end of a row of hard plastic seats, tracing the lines of his badge while staring at the others in turn… He always felt like a father figure in his role as cop - protector of the innocent and all that jazz – and while they each played their own special part in that world, Sara had always been like a daughter. One with authority issues and a severe discipline problem, but a daughter nonetheless. While he wasn't one to stick his nose into other people's personal lives unless it was on a case, he could only imagine what she had been to those who knew her best. Looking from face to face, he saw the grief, the confusion, and the hope mingled to form all the unanswered whys.

Catherine lay across three of the seats, her head in Warrick's lap, her body aching with apprehension. Warrick moved his fingers through her hair in a fluid motion that was somewhat calming to them both, and might have proved romantic in sentiment had they not been worried for Sara's life. Nick sat beside his best friend, reflecting on his many years on the team and his few on the force, wondering if they would ever be the same. Greg simply sat cross-legged on the cold tile floor near their feet, looking for all the world like a heartbroken child seeking comfort from his family.

Then, Brass looked to Grissom. Ever the loner, the leader of the geek squad sat in the corner in the only stand-alone chair in the room, staring into space as if he could find the answers there. Leaning forward with elbows resting on his knees, his characteristically emotion-free features betrayed a suffering and broken spirited man with sorrow, uncertainty, and fear swimming behind watery eyes. He was losing more than a friend… He was losing a dream.

The time was passed in silence, the only sound being the occasional sniffle from one of the members blending with the background noise of a hospital waiting room. The tension could be cut with a knife…

Or maybe a scalpel. After what seemed like an eternity, the team finally looked up to see the surgeon coming their way. They stood to meet him.

"She's stable and in a private room," he informed them. A sigh of relief broke loose like a wave upon the shore. "We'll go back in and fix her knee whenever she's ready. We've closed it back up for now, but what we think happened was-"

"You _think_?" Nick repeated.

The doctor sighed. "What happened was when we cut the circulation off to her leg during surgery, a clot formed. It detached from its place in the vein and made its way to her heart, causing her to go into cardiac arrest, and ultimately her heart stopped. Life saving efforts failed and she was officially declared dead at 12:04 am… We're not quite sure how she revived. By all means, she was and should still be dead. But, she's alive and well… and asking for a Gil Grissom."

All eyes turned to their no-so-fearless leader and watched as he looked at each of them in turn, as if asking their permission. They sent him ahead with messages and hugs for their sister in need, and took their seats, once again settling themselves in for a long wait.

* * *

**A/N:** _Thank you so much to those of you who kept our faith in me! I normally don't believe in character death, but I felt the need to write this chapter. As many of you know, I wear many different hats as an author, and lately the grammar nazi and description junkie have been riding my back! Hence the limited dialogue. This chapter took so much time and energy... I feel like I poured myself into this. **Please** tell me what you think!  
**forbesn: **She's my favorite, too. I couldn't really kill her even if I wanted to. This is the closest it'll EVER come to that.  
**Anonymous Skeleton: **She lives! I promise!  
**All:** Beginning with the conversation with Catherine on the phone in the previous chapter and ending with the curtain being closed on the operation, the first section of this chapter can be read to the "Song for Olabi" from the CSI: Soundtrack if read slowly. Certain parts of the song will match to certain parts of the story. (i.e. the beginning of the maraccas to the compressions on Sara's chest, the whisperings with Brass's entrance, and the woman singing to the "unearthly screaching" of the heart monitor.) Enjoy!_

_**Teaser: "What do you mean I died'?" she said, her voice wavering.**_

_**"Just that," he answered, unable to say anything else about the horrific experience.**_

_**"But I could feel you there..." she whispered. "You were there, weren't you?"**_

_**He took her hand in his own. "I stood outside that window the entire time, ... and I thought I'd lost you... I can't go through that again, Sara." He reached for his breast pocket. ...**_


	10. The Question

**----- ----- -----**

**Chapter 10: The Question**

**----- ----- -----**

Grissom walked down the hall not knowing what to expect. After all, he had just watched the woman he had denied loving for years die on an operating table, and now she was asking for him. What was he going to say? What _should _he say? Was there a kind of etiquette to these things? But then, as he neared her room, an even more daunting question entered his mind: Did she even know what happened to her?

He didn't have much time to contemplate these musings. Before he knew it he was standing before her door, his hand shaking as he twisted the knob and entered the sterile suite.

As the door opened, her eyes immediately found his, drinking in the sight of him. Without words, she knew that something was wrong. It was in the way he carried himself: cautiously, as if afraid to betray himself or some unspoken fear. His ever-changing eyes were a misty blue as he came closer and sat beside her bed in an old overstuffed armchair that had held many a heartbroken soul before him.

He tried to push the investigative part of his nature aside as he looked up at her… He failed. The thin hospital gown did not flatter her, sticking to her wiry and sweat-drenched frame. The scars from her ordeal with Todd Owen were still prevalent on her arms, neck, and face as she stared at him under the halogen bulbs of her sterile environment. Her chocolate curls stuck to her face and splayed on the pillow behind her.

It was Sara who broke the silence that seemed to have lasted an eternity between them. All it took was a simple question, and it pierced his heart, confirming what he had always sensed: she knew him.

"What's wrong, Gil?"

He couldn't lie to her. Years of doing just that had ruined their "relationship" beyond repair… or so he had thought until recently. His thoughts drifted back momentarily to his days as a Catholic. Maybe everything _did_ happen for a reason…

"Gil?"

He met her gaze and melted. "You went in for surgery on your knee-"

"I know _that_ much," she pushed him gently. "Why didn't they finish?"

His mind reeled as he thought back to those terror-filled moments in front of the OR window. How could he possibly explain to her what it felt like to watch her die, and to be completely helpless? He settled on a simple two-word response:

"Y-you…" Okay, maybe it wasn't that simple. He took a deep breath and looked at the floor. "You died."

It took everything he had not to crumple beneath her frightened stare.

"What do you mean I died'?" she said, her voice wavering.

"Just that," he answered, unable to say anything else about the horrific experience. But just then, he made his one mistake… He looked into her eyes. They shined a bright amber, staring wide with fear, confusion, and a desire – no, a need – to know every detail.

He couldn't deny her.

"They said it was a - a clot," he began, his voice cracking as he relived his own worst living nightmare. "They said that it must have formed once they c-cut off the circulation to your leg. It detached and made its way to y-your heart… You were of-officially declared dead, Sara. By all means, you should still _be_ dead."

It took her a moment to absorb all he had said. Finally, she broke the silence.

"But I could feel you there..." she whispered. "You were there, weren't you?"

He took her hand in his own. "I stood outside that window the entire time, and it killed me to see you like that." His eyes began to mist over again as he spoke. "I was so afraid- I thought I'd lost you... I can't go through that again, Sara."

He reached for his breast pocket.

"I've been carrying this damn thing around for three days, waiting for the right moment, but after everything that's happened I should have known that waiting is never the right thing to do…"

Suddenly, Sara stopped breathing. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was it possible that Grissom – her teacher and the man who had proven himself to be emotionally retarded over the years, her mentor and the man she had loved since he'd first come into her life, her boss and the man who had rejected all her previous advances – was actually going to propose?

She watched in a confusing mixture of shock, fear, and delight as he pulled a small black box out of his pocket and held it toward her. Though she felt like she was in a dream, she managed to take it from him with trembling hands and open it to reveal a shining platinum band topped with a diamond, the size of which she estimated to be a half-carat.

Seeing her surprise, he took advantage of her silence and slid from the chair. "Sara, it's been so long… We've known each other for 12 years, and the day we met I fell in love with your curiosity and your love for life. Why do you think I called you to Vegas?" When a small chuckle made its way through her tears, he continued, dropping to one knee. "I needed you in my life again… to help me remember. And now, after everything that's happened, I know that I can't live without you. It's why I sent you the plant, it's why I freaked out after the explosion, why I came to pick you up at the station, why I came to your house, why I was so scared at the mental institution… I- I just couldn't voice it… until now. I won't lose you again, Sara. Will you marry me?"

If she wasn't speechless before, she certainly was now. A tear threatened to break loose from the dam, and for once she didn't hold it back. As the water spilled over, she looked back and forth between the ring and Grissom's hopeful expression.

Suddenly, they heard shuffling outside the door. Turning to see what the noise was, they were both stunned to see the rest of their CSI family fighting to get a glimpse through the small window in the hospital room door. Smiling, they shook their heads as they heard Catherine's muffled exclamation:

"Say yes already!"

Sara laughed and turned to Grissom, love shining from her bright orbs, her lips curled in her famous gap-toothed grin despite her tears. Taking his hand in hers, she said the words she'd wanted to say for years.

"Of course I'll marry you."

Cheers sounded from the hallway and the door burst open as their friends sprinted into the room to give their congratulations. Hugs were shared, hands were shaken, and tears were shed amongst the group as they all tried to grasp the full meaning of what had just happened.

"Damn," Warrick sighed, content to sit on the edge of Sara's bed. "If I'd known there was gonna be the occasion for it, I'd've brought that dusty old bottle of champagne sittin' in my liquor cabinet!"

Sara chuckled. "I don't think my doctor would've appreciated that kind gesture," she said with a smirk.

Catherine scoffed. "Who cares! What does he know anyways? After what happened in that operating room, we should take Warrick's advice and sue him for malpractice!"

The room grew quiet at her outburst. Realizing what she'd just said, she blushed and quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, Sara. I shouldn't have said that."

Sara shook her head. "It's okay. We're all here now and that's what matters." She looked around at the faces before her. "I wouldn't trade this moment for the world."

Their celebrations lasted about ten more minutes before a nurse came in and ordered them all out of Sara's room for noise violations. Grissom was the last to move from his place. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

"I love you," he whispered.

The nurse cleared her throat, throwing him an angry stare.

Sara smiled. "I love you, too," she answered. "Now get out of here before she calls the cops on you."

He managed to make it all the way to the door before he turned for one last look. A feeling of contentment settled in his heart as he looked at the woman he loved, a satisfaction he hadn't felt in years. With the comforting knowledge that the pieces of the puzzle that was his life were finally falling into place, he slowly walked out of the room and let the door close behind him.

----- ----- -----

* * *

**A/N: **_I don't think I've ever recieved as many death threats for a story as I did for the previous chapter!I told you I'd make it better! Besides, what's a good story without a little suspense? _:-) _Thank you to those of you who have reviewed... It means so much. And to those of you who kept your faith in me, a double thank you!  
**forbesn: **Of course there's a dark before the dawn... And look how brilliant this dawn has become! I always love writing the uplifting chapters after the dark ones. It gets the best reactions, and it's always something that will grab your attention. Not to mention, it makes everything that has gone wrong previously completely worth it in the end. That is my goal with this story. Hope it works!  
**Anonymous Skeleton:** Your review made me laugh. I'm glad you enjoyed it, but please don't have a heart attack! Only the characters are allowed to do that, and only on special occasions! I'm updating as fast as I can... midterms are coming up, as is choir tour, so there's a lot of stress with school right now. But chin up... That'll give me plenty of time to come up with new and exciting material!  
**All: **I have recieved many questions and heated comments concerning the way Sara died. Let me make this clear to everyone: I know that a clot would have caused irreversible damage to the heart muscle! The point in writing that scenario into the plot was to add a mystical element to the story. I wanted it to be a kind of mystery as to how she revived... It gives the situation a bit of a miraculous feel, which is what I was going for. Please understand that I did the research. I just chose to ignore the realistic outcome for the sake of the story line._

**_Teaser: _****_"Please tell me you're joking."_**

**_He stared at her with symathy and compassion. "I wish I was."_**

**_He watched as her body tensed and her grip on her cane tightened. As if she hadn't already been through enough in the past few months, he could tell by her reaction just how much she dreaded having to face the man of her nightmares._**

**_"Don't you have enough evidence to convict him without me having to testify?"_**

**_"Not if we're going to guarentee that he won't be back on the streets. We need you..."_**

**_The look in his eyes told her that he wanted justice as much as she did. ... _**

**_"Court is now is session."_**


	11. The Trial

**----- ----- -----**

**Chapter 11: The Trial**

**----- ----- -----**

Month passed. Sara's physical therapy was going well. She was back at work, and everyone knew that the void that had been there while she was in the hospital had been filled. It was so good to have her back, although the sight of her slowly limping down the hall with her cane was still a little disconcerting. Daily they were reminded of what could have been. Of course, no one said anything. They merely worked their cases and handed her the lab results, occasionally pulling out a chair and asking if she needed any help, which she stubbornly (but politely) refused.

Sara was happier than anyone to be back at the lab. It was her second home…It was where she felt most comfortable. Sure, she was only doing minimal work around the lab, but she was okay with that. It kept her hands and her mind occupied, which was comforting on some deep subconscious level.

But nothing could have prepared her for what came on one dreary autumn day.

"Please tell me you're joking."

He stared at her with sympathy and compassion. "I wish I was."

He watched as her body tensed and her grip on her cane tightened. As if she hadn't already been through enough in the past few months, he could tell by her reaction just how much she dreaded having to face the man of her nightmares.

"Don't you have enough evidence to convict him without me having to testify?"

"Not if we're going to guarantee that he won't be back on the streets. We need you..."

The look in his eyes told her that he wanted justice as much as she did.

"I thought he was going to jail anyway for the shootout with Catherine and Brass."

He sighed. "He is, but that's only going to get him 25 years, and that's if they can prove it was him, which they're still working on. Sara, please… for your sake."

She looked at the floor, defeated. She knew there was no other way. She also knew that this was the only way that she'd be able to face the world again. Slowly, she nodded.

A look of relief crossed his face. "He's going away, Sara. The evidence is solid, and your testimony will seal his fate… You know that, right?"

She nodded again.

He hesitated before continuing. "Good. Then there's something you should know… His lawyer is Marjory Wescott."

----- ----- -----

One Week Later…

----- ----- -----

"Please rise… This court is now in session. Case file number 0094857, The People v. Todd Owen, the honorable Judge Celindra Kettinger presiding."

Sara stared at the door as she stood, Catherine and Grissom on either side of her, and watched as the slender black woman in flowing black robes made her way into the courtroom and to her seat. There was a sort of grace with which the woman moved, a grace that Sara had once moved with and could now sincerely appreciate in other women. Her eyes moved to the defense. Anger welled up in her at the sight of Marjory Wescott whispering to her client, but it died the moment he came into view, replaced instantly by fear and anguish. Sara quickly pushed it aside and gripped her cane for physical and emotional support as they were invited to sit.

The judge looked over the case file before her, momentarily glancing both at Sara and at the accused. Giving it another quick overlook, she closed the file and looked up.

"Prosecution, you may call your first witness."

Kenneth Ferguson, the DA, stepped forward. "Prosecution calls Dr. Gil Grissom to the stand."

Grissom squeezed Sara's hand and gave her a small smile before he rose and made his way to the front of the courtroom. After he was sworn in, he moved to what had come to be known by the CSIs as "the hot seat".

"Please state and spell your name for the record."

He took a deep breath. "Gil Grissom. G-r-i-s-s-o-m."

"Dr. Grissom, you were the CSI called to the scene where Ms. Sidle was found, correct?"

Sara sat forward. No one had told her what had happened that night.

"Yes, that is correct. Mrs. Willows and I were called out to a 404 in Henderson."

"And for the record, what exactly is a 404?"

"Police code. A 404 is the call for unknown trouble. There were limited details as to what exactly we would find at the scene. All we knew was that an anonymous tip was called into the station, stating that a young woman was found just inside an old warehouse in Henderson, and that the coroner had already arrived."

"Had he pronounced yet?"

Grissom shook his head. "Not at the time we got the call. But it took us a half an hour to drive out to Henderson. By the time Mrs. Willows and I arrived at the scene, the coroner pronounced that Sara… Ms. Sidle… was dead."

Ferguson looked at Sara sitting behind the prosecution desk, then turned back to Grissom. "Well, she's sitting right over there, Mr. Grissom, so she obviously didn't die," he said, holding a hand out in her direction. "What happened?"

Closing his eyes for what seemed like an eternity that actually only lasted a fraction of a second, he gathered his strength and prepared himself for the trip down Memory Lane that he'd dreaded revisiting. Taking a breath, he avoided Sara's stare as he spoke.

"When we arrived, Detective Brass met us and lead us to the warehouse. There were cops everywhere, lights shining on the entrance. When we got inside, we stood in the entry and simply observed the surroundings before actually approaching Ms. Sidle. The first thing you could see was a chair in the middle of the room with handcuffs attached to the back. There was blood on the floor showing directionality to and from the bed that sat in the corner."

Ferguson interrupted and showed a photo depicting the blood drops. "Exhibit A, Your Honor." He then nodded at Grissom to continue.

"The sheets on the bed were tussled and there were linen ties at each of the corners that were stained red with blood."

"Exhibit B, Your Honor."

Catherine knew that the judge was being shown the picture that had proven the hardest to look at, knowing what must have happened there. She looked at her friend and coworker seated beside her, knowing that it couldn't be easy to be told how she was found presumably dead.

Sara sat with her hands gripping her cane, trembling as silent tears made wet trails down her strong cheekbones. Her eyes were trained on the man that had saved her life, but her mind was stuck back in the warehouse, the memories that she had blocked out from that terrifying night flooding back as he described the scene.

Grissom continued.

"Ms. Sidle laid to the right just inside the entrance. Mrs. Willows examined her first, and noted that lividity was not yet present and that there was very little blood pooling, indicating that she had not been there long. Our best estimate was about one to two hours."

The lawyer paced in front of the witness stand, his hands behind his back. "What did you do next?"

"Ms. Sidle was lying face down and her hair was covering her face, so we rolled her over. When we realized that it was her, Mrs. Willows checked her ID in her purse, which was lying nearby, confirming our findings. We took a few moments to grieve, and it was then that the body was examined."

"What did you find, Dr. Grissom?"

Grissom took a shaky breath as he pictured her lying on the warehouse floor. "She had been shot once in the back of her left leg, and stabbed twice in the back. Her… Her jeans were undone and stained with blood. Her camisole was intact, but the buttons on her blouse had been ripped off. There were… bruises on her face, neck, and arms. When the flashlight shone over her face, her eyes contracted and Mrs. Willows called for the paramedics. The other officers began searching everywhere for anything they could do to help, and Detective Brass called Nick Stokes and Warrick Brown to take over the scene."

"What did _you_ do?"

"I rode with Sara… Ms. Sidle… in the ambulance. Mrs. Willows followed. We waited for about two hours in the waiting room before we heard any news."

"And what did the doctor tell you?"

Suddenly, Marjory Wescott jumped from her chair. "Objection, Your Honor! Leading the witness."

"Overruled," the judge countered. "Continue, Counsel."

Ferguson nodded to Grissom. "What did he tell you?"

"He said that the stab wounds were deep, that her lung had been punctured, and had she arrived at the hospital any later than she had, she-" He bit back a lump in his throat. "She wouldn't have made it… Her kneecap was shattered from the gunshot, and she'd be in a wheelchair until it was fixed." He closed his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to continue.

Ferguson stared at Grissom. "Dr. Grissom?"

He couldn't look at her. He couldn't. If he did, he'd never be able to say it. He resisted the urge to look her direction, knowing that at this point she was probably drawing strength from him.

The judge began to be irritated. "Dr. Grissom, answer the question."

He took a breath. "The doctor also told us that she'd been raped. He had performed an SAE kit, and took a vaginal swab to be sent back to the lab."

All heads suddenly turned to the seats behind the prosecution bench as Sara began to be sick, the images brought on by the testimony proving to be too strong. The judge rapped her gavel to regain the attention of the court.

"Order! I will have order in my courtroom! Someone get Ms. Sidle to a bathroom." As Catherine took Sara by the hand and led her out, Judge Kettinger continued. "Dr. Grissom will finish his testimony, and then the court will take a 30 minute recess to clean up that mess. Counsel, wrap this up."

Ferguson nodded. "Of course, Your Honor… Dr. Grissom, please continue."

"Dr. Lee then informed us that we could visit with her. It was then that I took myself off the case and assigned Mrs. Willows the primary position on the case, with CSIs Brown and Stokes working under her."

"Thank you, Dr. Grissom. Prosecution rests, Your Honor."

Judge Kettinger nodded. "This court is in recess. We will reconvene in 30 minutes for cross-examination." Hitting her gavel once more, she left the bench and sent the bailiff to find a janitor.

* * *

**A/N: **_OK, I swear I didn't fall off the edge of the earth! This chapter was so hard to write... Thank you so much to those of you who have stuck with me and encouraged me to keep going.  
On another note, I must say that I have appreciated all constructive criticism that has been submitted. However, I do NOT appreciate flames and hate messages! I was raised with the rule that if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all. I'm going to ask that the same rule apply here. If you don't like it, you don't have to read!  
There... now that I have that out of my system...  
**forbesn: **Thank you so much! Your reviews keep me laughing. It's good to know that I'm doing my job.  
**Anonymous Skeleton: **I'm honored to hold that position. I hope that this chapter is up to your oh-so-high expectations. I sincerely appreciate your honesty._

**Teaser: ****_If there was one thing he knew about Marjory Wescott, it was that she did not start with the simple questions. She dove right in with the big guns. He was not disappointed..._**

******_"Tell us again, Mr. Grissom, why it is that you took yourself off the case?"_**

**_"Ms. Sidle is a coworker and an employee on my shift. It was inappropriate for me to stay on the case."_**

**_"But Mrs. Willows and the rest of the tam on this case were also coworkers with Ms. Sidle, and yet they stayed on the case," Marjory persisted. "Could it be because Ms. Sidle is more than just a coworker?"_**

**_Catherine's face fell as she watched Marjory pile on the pressure. 'O shit...'_**


	12. The Cross Examination

**----- ----- -----**

**Chapter 12: The Cross-Examination**

**----- ----- -----**

If there was one thing Grissom knew about Marjory Wescott, it was that she did not start with the simple questions. She dove right in with the big guns. He was not disappointed.

"What tipped you off that this was not just some random victim, but indeed your coworker, Ms. Sidle?"

_Coworker? _he thought. _God, is there any way to truly describe our relationship? …_

"At first, I was more focused on the scene, but when Mrs. Willows started making comments on the body, I turned and saw her hair. We rolled her over, and-"

"Her hair?" she interrupted. "How could you possibly know that it was her simply by her hair?"

_O, shit. _Catherine closed her eyes in an attempt to hold back the blind hatred she felt for the woman. This was not going to be pretty.

But Grissom handled it with more ease than she expected.

"I've known Ms. Sidle for eleven years, and she's been a coworker and employee of mine for the last six of those eleven." _And so much more for so much longer._

"I see. Tell us again, Mr. Grissom, why it is that you took yourself off the case?"

"Ms. Sidle is a coworker and an employee on my shift. It was inappropriate for me to stay on the case."

"But Mrs. Willows and the rest of the team on this case were also coworkers with Ms. Sidle, and yet they stayed on the case," Marjory persisted. "Could it be because Ms. Sidle is more than just a coworker?"

Catherine's face fell as she watched Marjory pile on the pressure. _Fuck it all! _She had to bite her tongue to keep from saying it aloud, thinking of Sara simply sitting outside trying to catch her breath and her nerve.

Finally, Ferguson stood his ground. "Objection, Your Honor! She is badgering the witness and twisting his words!"

"Sustained. Watch your step, Council," the judge warned.

"Point taken, Your Honor. So, Mr. Grissom, after you officially passed the case to your colleagues, did you have anything else to do with this case unofficially?"

"Objection!" cried Ferguson.

"Sustained. Mrs. Wescott, what exactly are you getting at here, because if this has a point, you better make it, and fast."

"Your Honor, I'm simply trying to establish whether Mr. Grissom has any bias against my client because of contact with Ms. Sidle."

"Well, wrap it up."

"Of course. Now, Dr. Grissom, what happened when Ms. Sidle was let go from the hospital?"

"She was put in a wheelchair and released."

"Doesn't she live in a 2nd level apartment?"

"Yes. What's your point?"

"Well, if she was in a wheelchair, then she couldn't possibly stay in her apartment for the duration of her injuries. A scientist of your caliber should be able to figure that out, Mr. Grissom. She would've needed a place to stay. Where did she stay?"

He swallowed. "She stayed with me."

"Objection!" Ferguson called. "Relevance?"

Marjory smiled with feigned innocence. "Goes to the character of the witness, Your Honor… No further questions."

"I was helping a friend!" Grissom called to her back.

Judge Kettinger hit her gavel. "You may step down, Dr. Grissom."

----- ----- -----

"SHIT!"

That one word seemed to contain Grissom's entire vocabulary. Pacing outside the courthouse, he kicked a trashcan so hard that it knocked over and rolled several yards into the harsh desert sunlight. He immediately regretted this action, the throbbing in his foot now battling for a place in the forefront of his mind.

The trashcan stopped rolling at Sara's feet. She sat on a bench about ten yards away, not having moved since exiting the bathroom. Picking it up, she simply set the black can at the end of the bench, deciding against kicking it away as her nausea had not yet subsided. Glancing his way, she said,

"I'm guessing cross didn't go well."

He looked up, not having noticed her until now. Sighing, he nodded and slowly made his way to the bench to sit beside her.

"They've got Catherine on the stand now," he said, running a hand through his silver curls. He turned to look at her. "Are you alright?"

She shrugged.

An awkward silence stretched between them for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, he sighed. "She was leaning pretty hard on you during cross. Questions out of left field…"

"That bitch can say whatever the hell she wants to say!" Sara growled. "She wasn't there."

"She may be a bitch, but she's a damn good lawyer," he replied. "Thank God you're not expected to go on the stand today. I don't think you could handle it."

Her head jerked in his direction as her eyes darted to lock with his. "Don't you _dare_ tell me what I can or cannot handle… I handled that bastard's punk ass in high school, and I handled just fine after the warehouse. After that, I can most certainly handle Marjory Wescott!"

She could feel the bile rising again, and hated herself for being so weak. She fought it down with everything she had, determined to win the battle against her emotions. She could overcome this… She had to.

"Sara," he began. "I didn't mean-"

At that moment, the courthouse door opened, and a bailiff stepped out. "All those involved in the case of The People vs. Todd Owen, please return to the courtroom."

Grissom sighed. Standing, he held out a hand to help her up, but she refused it and brushed past him, leaning heavily on her cane as she made her way inside.

----- ----- -----

"I have heard the evidence brought forth by the prosecution, and it makes a strong case. However, I have to say that cross-examination has called into question quite a bit of what has been presented, including the ethics of the case. Unless the prosecution has more to present, I will have to let the accused walk."

Ferguson slammed his fist against the prosecution table. "Your Honor, how can you let a confirmed rapist back out on the streets when all the evidence in this case points to him brutalizing a fellow member of the justice system!"

"Calm down, Council!" Judge Kettinger warned. "Does the prosecution have anything else to present to this court?"

Ferguson caught a glimpse of Marjory Wescott's triumphant smirk as he sighed and gathered his papers. "The prosecution has one more witness to call to the stand, Your Honor."

"And who would that be?"

"The victim, Sara Sidle."

Heads turned to see her sitting directly behind the DA, a look of steely determination set on her face.

"Your Honor," Marjory called out. "After her display in the courtroom today, how could Ms. Sidle possibly testify? Are you sure she's up to such a daunting task?"

The judge looked to Sara. "Ms. Sidle?"

Though Sara could feel the eyes of the defense - and especially Todd Owen - upon her, she refused to look at them. She simply stared straight forward and nodded resolutely.

"Very well. Ms. Sidle will be sworn in to give her testimony when this court reconvenes. I think we've heard enough for today. Court will reconvene at nine a.m. sharp. " Hitting her gavel, she got up from her seat and left the chamber.

Organized chaos seemed to ensue as people left the courtroom and both sides gathered their papers and what was left of their wits. Ferguson simply turned to Sara with a grave stare.

"This case rests on you, Ms. Sidle."

----- ----- -----

* * *

**A/N: **_OK, I'm back! College finals are coming up and professors are really starting to cram, so updating has been hard, but I finally finished the chapter. This chapter was so hard to write... I couldn't get the mood right, and I fear that it's still not where it needs to be, but I'll leave the feedback to you! Please review..._

**_Teaser: "Ms. Sidle, please answer the question."_**

**_She stared ahead and gave a sad chuckle. "You'd think a trained CSI would be a great witness..." she murmurred._**

**_"Are you saying that you can't remember where you were?"_**

**_She looked to the lawyer with a dead look in her eyes. "I was slightly more concerned about what he was going to do to me..."_**

**_The color in her voice raised a red flag in the back of Grissom's mind. Was there something more to her story than she had originally suggested? ..._**


End file.
